Into a Thousand Pieces
by eriddle46
Summary: Hermione Granger and Tom Riddle have fallen in love before. More than once. She doesn't remember, but he does, and one of these times he'll get it right. Maybe. (AU. Tom comes back via the diary as a 16 year old, but years later than when COS is set)
1. Always Be Waiting For Me

**Disclaimer: This will be dark, maybe kind of scary. I will attempt to have Hermione and Riddle as in character as I possibly can.**

**Also - everything belongs to JK Rowling not me. Though I'd love to own Tom Riddle. **

**Thanks for reading!**

Ropes bound Hermione's hands. She struggled to loosen them, but they just tightened. _Dang incarcerous spell!_ She shut her eyes, breathed deeply and forced herself to think logically. Even if her body was tied up, she still had her brain. She'd think her way out of this situation.

Darkness covered the room, but the more she focused the more she could see. There were other prisoners down here. She could hear their wails, their cries of terror. And the sobs, the broken, hopeless sobs were the worst. Every once and awhile, she'd hear footsteps creak down the stairs and her heart would launch into her chest. The Death Eaters were coming. Horrible, faceless monsters intent on one thing: retrieving the location of Harry Potter.

Fortunately, none of the other prisoners actually had that secret to give away. They'd all been used in a type of Underground Railroad moving Harry and Ron as they searched for Tom Riddle's remaining horcruxes. As soon as their service finished, Hermione modified their memories. She'd tried explaining that to the Death Eaters, but they didn't believe her. They just doubled their torture, on her and everyone else.

Hermione heard footsteps coming closer, slow and deliberate, like they marched to a distinct beat. This time it wasn't a nameless Death Eater. It was Tom Riddle himself. After Riddle's return, most of the wizarding world went on as if nothing had happened. They listened to the faint murmurs of war, but thought of the fighting as something removed from themselves. Then there were people like Hermione Granger: a solider already in the middle of battle.

As Riddle approached, Hermione tensed. If she weren't the only one with an idea of Harry's location, she would be dead or tortured into insanity by now. Her knowledge may have trapped her, but it also kept her alive.

She'd never seen Riddle in person, just on wanted posters. He looked younger up close. No older than her 17 years. Still, his stiff posture and stony gaze made him seem infinite, going on far before her and far after her.

"Tell me the truth, Miss Granger." Riddle lifted Hermione's chin with the tip of his wand. "Do the others have any idea where Harry Potter is?"

Hermione swallowed, the movement enough to make the ropes constrict even more. "No. I used memory charms; they didn't even know they were helping us. They don't have to remember this."

"Using people?" He sneered. "A witch after my own heart." Riddle laughed at his joke and then turned his wand toward Mr. Gunther, an older man who had loved clocks and working in his garden when Hermione had first gone to him for help.

"Avada Kedavra," Riddle shouted and a shock of green light exploded from his wand and crashed into Gunther's chest. His whole body fell limp.

"No!" Hermione shouted.

He looked back at Hermione, his face placid, as if he had stepped on a spider and not killed a person. "Don't make me do that again. I hate to spill magical blood. Such a waste."

She stared down at her scuffed boots. Hermione wouldn't give him the respect of looking him in the eye, but he grabbed her chin and forced her face toward his.

"This is your fault, Miss Granger. You dragged these innocent people into your war. I'm just doing what I have to – you understand that. I have to protect my myself, and my Death Eaters," he said that as an afterthought. "Now tell me where Harry is or I'll be forced to kill another."

Hermione willed herself not to shake. It made the ropes tighten and would give Riddle the satisfaction of knowing he scared her. She couldn't bring herself to say anything.

"You know I'm willing to do it. So what happens next is up to you?"

Hermione looked over Tom Riddle's shoulder. Behind him was a young woman with strawberry-blonde hair. Ilsa had owned an apartment in Paris. Harry had stayed with her when he passed through. Tears were rolling down her face. "Please," her voice shook.

Riddle stepped back from Hermione and gave his attention to Ilsa. "My sincerest apologies, Miss. I'd rather not, but the choice is Miss Granger's."

"Germany," Hermione said. "The last place Harry was going was Germany."

"A country?" He turned back to Hermione. "You expect me to search a whole country? You'll have to do better than that." Though his eyes remained on Hermione, he lifted his wand to Ilsa. She shuddered.

"Nuremguard," Hermione lied.

"What?"

"The German wizard prison."

"I know what it is," he said harshly. "Why would Potter go there?"

"The Deathly Hallows."

"Deathly Hallows?" he said through shut teeth.

Merlin, she hoped this lie worked. "There were three brothers."

"Who traveled across a lonely road at midnight," he finished for her. "I know the story."

"Then you know what it means. Death's three gifts. If one possesses all of them, it makes one."

"Master of death." There was reverence in his voice as he spoke, but then he scoffed. "A tale for children."

"Maybe. Maybe it is just like those fairy tales you and me grew up on. Like Snow White and Little Red Riding Hood."

His jaw tensed, anger flashed in his eyes. Reminding him of his muggle heritage may not have been Hermione's best idea. But it rattled him and she could use that.

"But then again," she continued. "We both know there is always _some _truth even to muggle fairy tales."

Riddle looked at her like he was unsure whether he could trust her words, but could not see the fault in her logic. "How do you know the hallows are even real?"

She half-smiled. "I've seen one."

His face-hardened. "You have?"

"Death's invisibility cloak. It's been in the Potter family for generations. They're descendants of the Peverells." Those were the three brothers that the tale was based on. "And," Hermione said. "So are you."

"What are you talking about?" he snapped. "I've never seen-"

"The Slytherins are descendants of the Peverells. It stands to reason that you might have one in your possession."

"Unless, my ancestors asked for the elder wand. Then it could be anywhere."

"Possible, but since the third hallow has never been found, it stands to reason."

"That some family trinket of mine is actually the resurrection stone."

"Precisely."

It was weird to think that even thousands of years ago that Tom Riddle's ancestors would have chosen a hallow not to gain power but love. That said, it did involve bringing people back from the dead, which seemed to be a long standing family tradition.

"Harry Potter is searching Nuremguard for the elder wand?"

She nodded and the ropes constricted again. "For its last owner."

"Grindelwald," Riddle started to pace, "Which means . . . Dumbledore."

Grief shuddered through Hermione as she thought of her old headmaster tucked away in his grave. Luckily, Harry already had the elder wand. He'd had it for a while now.

"So Harry has to come to you. The owner of the last Hallow, and when he does."

The corner of his lip rose. "He'll have the more powerful hallows and I'll have the resurrection stone and absolutely no chance. Nice try, Granger, but I think I'll go after the elder wand myself."

Hermione let out a shaky breath. "Suit yourself."

"I always do," he said with an eerie politeness to his voice. Riddle spun on his heel, his cloak thrashing with him. "Greyback. Dinner time."

Her stomach twisted. Hermione couldn't believe it. How could he? What else did she expect? "I told you everything."

"And I promised I wouldn't kill them, and I'm not."

_No. No. No. _She'd rather Riddle kill them. The killing curse is painless. A death by Fenrir Greyback, a murderous werewolf, was the worst thing she could imagine.

The others started to scream as Riddle walked toward a hulking shadow. He said something to who was likely Greyback and then he walked up the stairs.

Greyback stepped into the dim light. Hair grew wildly on his head, face and arms. A horrible sneer crossed his face. A tear slipped from her eye. She didn't want to die this way, or watch anyone else die this way.

He snarled and lunged at Ilsa. She let out the most painful shriek Hermione had ever heard. Hermione shut her eyes and imagined she was somewhere else. Somewhere far away without this pain and loss and fear. She pretended until she felt hot breath on her neck and couldn't pretend anymore.

_How badly will this hurt? _She thought, with a surprising amount of clarity. She screamed when Greyback bit down on her shoulder. Fiery licks of pain consumed her. Hermione opened her eyes to see one last time.

A shock of red light streamed into Greyback's chest and tossed him backwards. Riddle charged forward, his hand clutching at the bleeding wound on Hermione's shoulder. Her blood was drizzling over his fingers. He cursed and put even more pressure on the wound.

Why was he doing this?

"I told him – I said," Riddle seethed then breathed out. "It's just a small wound. You'll be fine."

He pulled his hand away from Hermione's shoulder and placed it on her face. She could feel the heat of her own blood on his fingers. With his other hand, he brushes some hair out of her face.

"I wish it didn't have to be like this this time." Suddenly, his mouth was on Hermione's. Her eyes widened, her body tensed. _What the heck? _She tried to pull away and the ropes squeezed tighter. But there was something about his lips, the way they moved – and the way he tasted like firewhisky and cinnamon. It felt like reading a good book for the fifth time. Familiar, comforting. Hermione had never been so scared in her life.

His lips left hers and he leaned his forehead against hers. "Come back to me next time."

Hermione blinked a few times, her head fuzzy, and she said some words. She wasn't quite sure why, but she had the distinct feelings this had all happened before and would happen again. "I always come back."

Riddle pointed his wand at her head and whispered, "Obliviate."


	2. Count My Sins

_One Week Later_

Hermione had never really thought about how hot the sun was. In England and Scotland, a shield seemed to protect the earth from its heat. It would get warm, but not blistering. She'd never understood the term _blistering _heat until now. In Peru, blistering was no overstatement.

She'd started her job with Gringotts not long ago. She couldn't remember exactly when but not long ago. Ron's brother, Bill, had gotten her a job with them. They needed someone experienced in fighting dark magic and proven ability to think her way out of trouble, and why look farther than Hermione Granger? She'd been alongside Harry Potter thwarting Riddle's attacks ever since they started at Hogwarts. Sometimes she wished she'd gone with Ron and Harry to look for Horcruxes after Riddle came back, but she hadn't, for some reason, and now she only heard news of them every few weeks. Anyway, they'd placed her with a team of curse breakers, and shipped her down to Cuzco, Peru in hopes of recovering a lost wizarding artifact supposedly stolen by Incan leaders two thousand years ago. If only she knew exactly what it was and what it did.

Hermione had traveled places with her family like France and Germany. The United States once. But she had never been to a place like Peru. There was a wildness there, something alive but ancient, dark but beautiful. She'd never imagined anything like it.

She was a muggleborn and therefore the only one of her two curse breaking companions, Wendy James and Hollis Wells, who knew how to drive. So Hermione sat at the helm, jostling a jeep over steep inclines and jagged rocks all the way to camp.

Wendy had the straightest hair Hermione'd ever seen and not once had she seen the woman smile. Hollis, on the other hand, blinked his wide eyes like an owl and walked with a bounce of excitement or nervousness maybe. Both Wendy and Hollis had more experience as curse breakers, but Wendy was more of a historian than a fighter and Hollis, well Hollis, looked like a slightly grumpy butterfly could take him down. Still, Hermione felt out of place here. This was certainly the farthest away from home she'd ever been and she had no idea the kinds of curses, jinxes and dangers she'd meet out in the jungle or in the ruins.

Hermione set up her tent. It was a light periwinkle blue and modest on the inside with just a stove, a bed, bathroom and one extra room for reading. Wizards and witches staying in the jungle had it much easier than muggles. Hermione for one was deeply thankful she wouldn't have to dig a hole and use it for a toilet.

"We should go into town." Hollis stuck his head through the part in Hermione's tent. His thick- rimmed glasses sat crooked on his nose.

"I don't know. I was going to finish some reading. I found an article just before we left from an old muggle expedition to the ruin."

"Read it tomorrow," he said exasperated. "If you don't enjoy your life, you'll end up like Wendy, and that's a fate worse than death."

I sighed. "Fine just let me change and I'll drive us."

When Hollis left, Hermione dug through her duffle bag and pulled on a pair of shorts, a sleeveless blouse and a light jacket. She grabbed the jeep keys and used a locking spell on her tent.

Wendy stayed behind, but Hermione and Hollis set out into the humid jungle stopped at the end of line of tiny house at a bar called La Estrella. Bright, multi-colored lights hung outside and the sound of rich, exotic music played from a band Hermione could spot through the window.

"I'm not so sure about this," said Hermione as she stepped out of the jeep. She had an unnerving feeling that something was wrong with this place.

"There's nowhere else around." Hollis grinned widely. "Besides, you can't tell me your not at least a little bit intrigued by this place."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine." She'd probably never have another chance to come to Peru. She might as well see as much of it as she could.

With her heart beating a little faster than usual, she walked with Hollis to the paint-chipped green door. He pushed it open, and the bar released a little gasp smelling like cigarettes, liquor and an unidentifiable spices.

She pushed her way through the crowd, dodging dancing feet and uncertain arms, and followed Hollis to the bar. Dusty bottles lined the back shelf. A good-looking man with shoulder length black hair stood behind the bar. They ordered drinks from him. Well, Hollis ordered something with a name Hermione couldn't pronounce, and Hermione just ordered whiskey. She didn't know why, but she'd always loved that smoky flavor – and the burn. The burn was the best part.

"I've got some dancing to do." Hollis faded away into the dense crowd.

Hermione stayed by the bar, taking another long drink of whiskey and trying not to think about the last years as the liquid stung its way down her throat. Nothing had been the same since for her since Riddle's return. He was a dark cloud over everything, a funnel cloud waiting to drop and she was just ready for it to be over.

"The burn's the best part," a smooth voice said behind her.

Hermione turned toward the sound and saw a tall man, 18 maybe, like her, with smooth brown hair and the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. His hands were in the pockets of his grey trousers and he was smirking. Her stomach dropped. She recognized this man.

This was Tom Riddle, and she regretted wishing for a tornado.

"Yeah," she said, hoping he didn't know she recognized him, or even worse, hoping he didn't recognize her.

Riddle pointed at the bartender and then at Hermione's glass. He ordered a whiskey for himself as well.

"You should sit down," he whispered.

Hermione swallowed, her heart pounding. She did as he asked. When the bartender handed Hermione, the whiskey she took another sip. Her hands trembled, and Riddle glanced down at them.

"Long way from home."

"How would you know?" she said, staring down at her glass.

"Because I know you, Hermione Granger."

She shut her eyes. He did recognize her. Hermione couldn't think of a thing to say so she just stayed silent.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked.

Hermione forced herself to look right at him. "You know I do." She needed to get out of here. Alert the Ministry that she'd found Riddle.

"I know what you're thinking," he said. "Run home and tell Daddy Fudge what you saw. Need I remind you that Ministry of Magic has no jurisdiction in Peru, and this country happens to be friendly to, let's say, my ambitions."

Hermione did her best to just look away and ignore Riddle, but her attitude didn't dissuade him.

"There's only one reason I can assume your here. A rendezvous with your ginger boyfriend, and a man I've been most dying to meet again."

_Keep your mouth shut. Keep your mouth shut._ "No, but even if I was, I'd die before I'd tell you." _Hermione, what are you thinking?_

He reached two fingers out and touched her cheek. A shiver began where his hand met her skin and radiated through the rest of her body. Was that some kind of magic? She'd never felt anything like it before. At least not that she remembered.

"Dying's not as easy as it sounds. Things always seem very different when faced with eternal darkness."

"Guess it depends on what you believe about the afterlife and how you've lived this life."

He smiled and a flash of darkness ignited in his eyes. "Then you know why I am so determined to stay alive. After all the horrible things I've done the devil must have a special place for me."

Hermione felt a sudden urge of confidence she should have fought but didn't. "I'm sure."

"Well Angel," he whispered, leaning in. "Would you like to count my sins?"

Hermione jolted up from the table. It couldn't be coincidence that Riddle was in the same bar she was. Had he been following her? Was it just some horrible fate? No. He had to be following her that or maybe Riddle was after the same thing Hermione was. Maybe he knew more about it than she or Wendy or Hollis did. She could use this . . . no! Hermione had to get out of there. It wasn't safe. He wasn't safe.

"I should go find my friend."

He grabbed her arm. "You haven't finished your whiskey yet."

Hermione grabbed the glass of the bar and downed the drink in one gulp.

"Impressive."

She glared at Riddle, rage surging through her. "I can assure you I have no need to impress you. You're of no consequence to me."

"You understand who you're speaking to?" Sharp anger cut through his words.

What was she thinking? Pushing Tom Riddle like that. Hermione hadn't been thinking. That was the problem. Talking to him had been like suspended animation, like floating underwater with her eyes closed.

"Good night," she said through gritted teeth, her heart racing, and Hermione melted into the crowd.

All she wanted now was to get out of La Estrella as fast as possible. Hermione scanned the faces in the crowd, but they were blurry because she was sort of drunk – and damn she'd driven here. Perfect. As a witch, she didn't normally take muggle transportation after a night out. It had never crossed her mind. She couldn't drive like this. In any case, Hermione at least wanted to find Hollis and make sure he was okay.

As Hermione struggled her way through the moving bodies, a hand grasped hers.

"Hollis," she said, but when she turned around it wasn't Hollis. It was Riddle.

"I saw the way your friend went," he said, his voice low. Riddle wrapped an arm around her back and pulled their bodies together. Hermione gasped. "One dance and I'll tell you."

"I can find him myself," she said.

"It's only one dance. Where's the harm in that?"

He didn't loosen his grip. The only time Hermione would have ever expected to be this close to Tom Riddle would be right before she died. Instead, his left hand fit like a puzzle piece on her lower back, and his right hand was locked with hers.

"I'm not telling you anything about Harry Potter."

Riddle leaned in his breath strangely cool on her ear. "I could compel you to tell me."

"Then do it." Hermione actually didn't know where Harry and Ron were so Riddle wasn't getting anything from her in any case.

"Where's the sport in that?"

The band had played mostly fast songs so far. Up tempo ones she didn't recognize, but this one was slow and smooth like from another lifetime. If she believed in that sort of thing.

"I don't get you. I'm a- _you_ know- shouldn't you be trying to . . . dispatch me."

Riddle let out a sort of broken laugh. "Dispatch? I'm not a wicked pirate, but that would be a fun game to play. The shy mudblood and the wicked pirate."

The sound of his voice sent currents of numbness through her bones. She despised the word mudblood, but she heard no hate in the word as he said it. Still, he shouldn't even be near her, touching her, not with the stuff he was spreading and known to believe about muggleborns. What did he want with her? Did she even want to find out?

"The songs over," she said, pulling away from him. "Now where'd you see my friend go?"

Riddle half-smiled. "Oh I have no idea. I just wanted a dance."

Heat rose in Hermione's cheeks. "You're despicable."

"Yes, but you already knew that." Riddle disappeared in front of her eyes. Nobody else seemed to notice him.

Hermione tried to put the encounter out of her mind as she searched for Hollis. She could see a few people outside through the shallow windows at the back of the bar. Once outside, she noticed people scattered in their bright colored clothes through dense forest.

"Hollis!" Hermione shouted. "Hollis, you out there?"

Against her better judgment (Hermione was still a bit tipsy), she headed into the thick foliage. The temperature had dropped twenty degrees as the world had fallen into darkness, and she was regretting her choice of denim shorts and blue flower top. How could it drop temperature like that? It seemed unnatural. Riddle was here, so maybe it was. A shiver shuddered through her. She hoped he couldn't control the weather.

Hermione heard some men speaking Spanish loudly. Thankfully, she'd learned the language before coming down here.

"Do you have it or don't you?" asked one of the men.

"I'm trying." She recognized that voice. Hollis. What was he up to?

"Trying's not good enough."

"Give me a couple days. I'll find the artifact," said Hollis. "It'll be yours. I promise."

Hollis was betraying us? Betraying the Ministry? She could hardly believe it.

"Good. Because you know what I do to people who lie to me."

Hermione accidentally stumbled forward, shaking a bush. She tensed.

"Who's out there?" the man said. He looked in her direction. "Hey, you." He started charging toward her.

Hermione reached for her wand when she realized she'd been wearing a jacket, and she'd left her wand in the inside pocket. She started to run, but the night was too thick and her head spinning. The man was gaining on her.

Two hands grabbed her shoulders. Hermione nearly screamed, but a hand clamped over her mouth, and the painful dizziness of disapparition crushed down her. When her feet felt sold again, she struggled away from his grip and turned to see who'd taken her.

Tom Riddle. _You have to be kidding me!_

"I'd advise you to stay away from those men, Angel. They're trouble."

She'd take whatever trouble she'd been in with those guys and Hollis's scheme over the trouble she was in now.

**I appreciate you reading! I wanted to something with an unusual setting rather than just the same places we're used to. We'll get answers about what's going on between Riddle and Hermione as she figures it out. Thanks so much for the reviews, favs and follows! Let me know what you think.**


	3. Temple of Bone

**Chapter Three**

_He ran his hands through her hair as he pushed her back against the bed. She grabbed his tie and pulled him down on top of her. His lips crushed into hers, and he forgot what oxygen even was. A storm raged, lightning cracking beyond the castle walls. Still, compared to what was happening here, happening around and beneath him, it seemed calm outside._

_"We shouldn't be doing this," she said._

_"Isn't that the point?"_

_"Tom," she whispered and he kissed her again. "What if we get caught?'_

_He bit her ear softly and said, "I'll obliviate them –or kill them." His hand pushed up her skirt. He could feel her heart beating in her thigh._

_"No killing."_

_He sighed. "If you insist."_

Hermione had been brought to a small, dusty house with dark curtained windows. A single lantern sat on a coffee table, creating ghostly shadows through the room.

"Where are we?" Hermione asked.

"Home. Well, for now," Riddle said. "Would you like something to drink?"

Her mind was already pretty fuzzy.

"I think I've had enough."

"I meant tea."

Hermione shook her head. She wasn't crazy enough to drink something from Riddle. He could poison her. Not that he'd have any reason to go through all that trouble. He could kill her with his wand and two words at any moment.

"Why am I here?"

"I was trying to save your life, but I could remedy that."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, feeling as uncomfortable as she had in her life. She changed the subject. "You knew those people?"

"You could say that."

"Do they work for you?"

"If they worked for me, you wouldn't have to worry about them."

Hermione's mouth fell open slightly, and she wanted to ask Riddle what he meant, but she wasn't even sure she'd heard him right.

"I could use them in my ranks," he continued as if he'd said nothing out of the ordinary, "but they seem to have their own leader."

"Yeah, who?"

"Unfortunately, I haven't been able to figure that out. I'm not certain most of _them _even know who it is. One thing I do know is whoever it is, he or she seems to inspire a great amount of fear."

"You two would probably get along then."

Riddle glanced over at Hermione, and then at his small leather sofa. "Sit down."

"I'd rather not."

"Sit."

Hermione plopped down on the sofa. "Am I your hostage now?"

Riddle sat down just a few feet from Hermione, and she tensed. "No, but you're going to help me."

"Help _you_? And if I don't?"

"Then you don't, but if you do, then I'll owe you a favor."

A favor? A Tom Riddle favor? What would that even look like? What could she do with it? It sounded intriguing, but worrisome.

"I'm not killing or torturing anyone."

"I wouldn't dream of asking you. All I want is for you to learn what you can about the people Hollis is working for."

"Can't you do that for yourself?"

"They know who I am."

"Fame and notoriety do have some setbacks."

He shifted a bit closer to her. "What do you say?"

"I'll get a favor?"

He nodded. "But it can't include not killing Potter. Deal?"

Her mother had told her never make a deal with the devil, but she didn't see much harm in this. She wanted to know more about who Hollis worked for and why they wanted the artifact. Passing on this information to Riddle would get her safely out of here and wouldn't put Harry in anymore danger than he already was.

"I'm going to regret this, but deal."

He put his hand on her knee. "I'll take you back to your jeep now. Unless you want to stay." His lip curled into a dangerous smile.

Hermione stood up, and his hand slipped off her leg. "Go."

"If you must."

"My wand," Hermione remembered she had lost it.

Riddle reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out Hermione's wand.

"You just took that out and left my jacket?"

He glared at her.

"Thanks," she said and quickly took her wand from him. "I can go myself."

"I know where your camp is. I'll drop by."

"That's creepy," she said and then disapparated.

When she reappeared by the jeep, she breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't really thought Riddle would just let her go, but he did. After that, she found Hollis and drove them home, feeling perfectly sober and just as suspicious. Hermione went to bed, and made sure her tent stayed locked.

_"We could get married," Riddle said, glancing over at her bare back and the dark curls spilling over her shoulder._

_She turned over. "Why would you want to get married?"_

_"Every king needs his queen."_

_"I don't know." She bit her lip._

_"Let me give you the world. I can, you know."_

_She sighed. "That's what scares me."_

The next morning Hermione woke up and ate a breakfast of toast and fruit. While sipping tea, she read the article about the muggle expedition. The article was dated June of 1956.

**Oliver Fell, 41, recently led a team of archaeologists into the Temple of Bone, a mostly unexplored Incan ruin near Cuzco, Peru. Fell and his crew returned with pottery, gold and other artifacts that were distributed to museums around the world. **

**The Fell crew has spoken little of their expedition into the Temple of Bone, and all but one (Terrence Lowell, 32) declined to comment for this article. When asked if he returned to the ruin, he replied:**

**"I'd rather swallow a handful of scorpions."**

Hermione put down the article. She'd read the rest later. Whatever happened n the Temple of Bone probably wasn't _that _bad and easily explained by magic. Unfortunately, these muggle wouldn't even know what had hit them.

She dressed, filled her pack and met Wendy and Hollis outside. Hermione had trouble looking Hollis in the eye, but if she wanted the information from him, she had to act like nothing was amiss.

They loaded the jeep and drove to the Temple of Bone. The jungle was thicker and wilder here than any she'd seen yet. There were flowers so large and with such rich color, they looked prehistoric. When they arrived, Hermione parked the jeep and then strapped on her pack. Thankfully, the extendable charm made the pack light and easy to carry.

She knew immediately why it was called the Temple of Bone. The structure was a creamy white rather than grey, and the entrance looked like the gaping mouth of a massive skull. Hermione couldn't help but feel thankful her team was only scouting the outside and surrounding areas today.

"I'm regretting last night," Hollis whispered. "Hiking with a hangover – not clever."

Hermione had a potion in her bag to help with his hangover, but she figured he deserved to suffer a bit for the lies he was telling and secrets he was keeping.

"You_ should_ have listened to me," Wendy said dramatically. Wendy reminded Hermione of herself, if she hadn't matured since first year. "_I _feel perfectly splendid."

That morning, they hiked the surrounding areas and recorded the size and shape of the Temple of Bone. Hermione kept trying to weasel in a conversation that might lead to a confession from Hollis, but he was tight lipped. Finding answers might require more desperate measures, like stealing and snooping.

When they hiked back to jeep, Hermione tried to start the vehicle, but it just sputtered and died.

"We can apparate back," Wendy suggested.

Hermione was inclined to agree, but the jeep had been operating fine that morning and last night. She had a troubling feeling something was amiss.

She tried to disapparate and found that she could not, just like at Hogwarts.

"Anyone else having problems . . . getting it up?" Hollis asked.

Both Wendy and Hermione glared at Hollis. But he was right. They were stuck.

"We have to walk it," Hermione said.

"We're twenty miles from camp!" Hollis shouted.

"We just have to walk until we can disapparate again," Hermione said, afraid but hiding it. "Let's move before it gets dark."

_"Yes," she said. "I'll marry you."_

_He kissed her, and kissed her again. And again._

_"With you, nothing can stop me," he said between kisses. "Nothing."_

**_Thanks for reading. When I do italics, they are flashbacks from Riddle's POV, but they're meant to be kind of mysterious and just give snapshots. I love to hear from you, so review if you get a chance._**


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